


on the subject of love and loss

by 20poundsofcrazy



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Smut, agents of shield s7 canon compliant, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20poundsofcrazy/pseuds/20poundsofcrazy
Summary: The two people who love Daniel Sousa more than anyone else in the world can't believe he's gone.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Peggy Carter/Jack Thompson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	on the subject of love and loss

**Author's Note:**

> no one ever talks about the fact that peggy & jack don't know that daniel's "death" was faked by the shield team so i decided to write something about them finding out and it got a little out of control lol

They told him over the phone. After all, Jack thought later, bitterly, why shouldn’t they? Naturally it is shocking to hear about the death of a coworker, but it’s practically par for the course in this line of work, and besides, the voice on the other end of the line was more concerned with other things. There was only one person who could have predicted the effect that the news would have on Jack: the way his hands would tighten around the warm plastic of the telephone, hot tears would fill his eyes, and the bullet scar on his shoulder would begin to ache again. Apparently, as it turns out, it’s worse to hear about someone else getting shot than it is to be shot yourself. Only one person would know.  
Jack hoped like hell that they hadn’t told her over the phone.

Jack caught the first LA bound plane he could. His hands shook as he buckled the seatbelt. The plane shuddered as it took off, and that shudder seemed to go all the way to his bones. He spent the first half of the ride staring out the window, staring at the flight attendants, reading a newspaper over the shoulder of the man in front of him, anything to distract himself. The closest he would let himself come to thinking about Daniel was thinking about the other thing the man on the phone had told him: SHIELD had, very possibly, been infiltrated by HYDRA. That should have been devastating news. It was devastating news, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to be anything more than mildly terrified about it. He did, however, wonder what they were going to do. It would all fall to Peggy, which was normally a fact that would offer great comfort, but not now. Once Peggy heard the news, heard about Daniel, she’d be in no shape to deal with HYDRA. She’d rip them to shreds. No method, no interrogations, nothing but brutal force. Anger. She’d want her revenge. A part of Jack really wanted to let her loose on them. A part of him wanted to help her, to rip them all apart himself, make them suffer the way Daniel had. Gunshot wounds hurt. It was a kind of pain that Daniel didn’t deserve. And now, of course, his thoughts had circled back to Daniel, and he could no longer stop the rising tide of memories.   
Daniel, his eyes crinkling as he grinned at Jack. Daniel, staying late at the office, helping Jack work through mountains of paperwork, telling silly stories to keep them both awake. Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. His name was as familiar to Jack as Jack’s own heartbeat. It had been hard, learning to be content with smiles, brushes of hands, friendly comradery, but he’d managed it. He still remembered a night in the dead of January, before Peggy was anything more than a friend/nuisance, before they learned that worse things lurked in blank L.A. sunlight than in the dark of night. He and Daniel had been more than a little drunk, talking about who knew what, mostly just sitting together. Daniel had been warm beside him, and he smelled good (like himself), and Jack had kissed him. Just like that. Leaned forward and kissed him. He still didn’t know what he’d been expecting to happen, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting Daniel to kiss him back. It was everything he’d imagined it would be and so much more. Daniel’s lips were soft, and he grabbed Jack by the back of his neck, holding on for dear life, and Jack thought he’d probably die right there and be happy about it.   
The next morning they’d both stumbled into the office late, hungover and unsure, and avoided each other all day. They’d never spoken about it. Now they wouldn’t get the chance. But Jack had lived for months off of the memory of that drunken kiss, kept it in a secret place in his heart, and no matter how bad the world got, it was still a world in which he had kissed Daniel Sousa.   
God, he missed Daniel. It was like a fist clenching in his heart, a sob bubbling up in his throat, a physical pain. He buried his head in his hands, letting the sob break free. This prompted his seatmate to ask “Are you alright?”   
He glanced up at her, hastily wiping the tears off his face. She looked to be about his age, a pretty woman with dark hair pulled back in a bun and blue eyes that were currently wide with concern.  
“Nope,” Jack said. There was really no point in lying, he figured. If you’re crying on a plane, it’s a pretty good bet that you’re not alright.   
“What’s wrong?” she asked hesitantly, and Jack decided to tell her the truth. Some of it anyway.  
“I loved him,” he said roughly, too far gone to even care about switching the pronouns. Daniel was dead, who the fuck cared if some random lady on a plane knew that Jack was gay? “I loved him, and he died.” 

L.A. was just as muggy as Jack remembered it. The air was sticky, and he was sweating as he stood outside the hospital. Daniel’s body was in the morgue, they had said, but that still wasn’t an explanation for why Jack was standing here, sweating in the humidity, unable to move or walk inside. Finally he reached for the handle and yanked the door open.  
It was blissfully cool inside, but Jack found himself longing for the heat. The corridors were a sterile white, and eerily empty at this time of night. He made his way carefully to the morgue, his footsteps echoing as he walked.  
Only half of the lights were on in the morgue, and the room faded into a blank, gaping darkness. There was one table, in the center of the room, holding a single exposed body. Jack knew instinctively that it was Daniel, but he wasn’t sure if the woman standing at the front of the room did. He watched, frozen in the doorway, as Peggy crossed the room. Her heels made clicking sounds on the linoleum floor. She held her head high, almost as if she was refusing to acknowledge the body in front of her. She only looked down when she was in front of the metal table, peeling back the sheet with her carefully manicured fingers.   
She went down like a shot.   
Her knees gave out and she stumbled, catching herself on the metal table with a loud clang. In the silence, her sobbing whisper was painfully audible.   
“Daniel.”   
Jack finally sprung into action, crossing the room in great strides, arriving quickly at her side. He grabbed Peggy by her shoulders, hauling her to her feet. Her chest was heaving with her rapid breaths, and she staggered against Jack, falling into his arms. She was sobbing, a sound of pure grief that felt too loud for this silent room of death.   
“He’s dead,” she gasped. “It’s Daniel. He’s dead, Jack!”   
“I know,” Jack whispered, awkwardly stroking her hair. “I know.”  
“I didn’t,” Peggy choked out. He could feel her shaking in his arms. “They… they didn’t tell me. They wanted me to ID the body-- I didn’t know!”   
“They didn’t tell you?” Jack asked incredulously. “They didn’t tell you?” She shook her head, and he felt it against his chest, her hair rustling against the slick fabric of his shirt.   
Jack was just about to march Peggy with him over to the coroner’s office and demand why the fuck they would bring her in to ID the body when the door swung open and the coroner himself walked in.   
“Hello, Mr. …?”  
“Thompson,” Jack snarled. “And it’s Chief.”  
“My bad. Hello, Chief Thompson. Director Carter, do you have a positive ID?”  
And something inside of Jack snapped.  
“You idiot,” he shouted, letting go of Peggy so he could face the coroner full on. She was already steadier on her feet, but she clutched Jack’s arm like a lifeline. “You absolute fucking idiot! Why the hell would you bring her in to identify the body of her dead husband and not even tell her? You son of a bitch!” His voice echoed throughout the room, seeming even louder. He was honestly surprised by the anger rising in him, but seeing Peggy, his brave, strong Peggy crumple to the ground had turned all his grief into fury.   
The coroner spluttered for a second before asking “Well, did she ID the body or not?”  
Jack opened his mouth to make a big mistake, but Peggy stopped him.  
“Jack,” she said in a strong, almost clear voice that could not have been more different from a few minutes ago, “Shut up.”  
Then she stepped towards the coroner, who was finally looking afraid. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his coat. Peggy continued to stare him down. After a few seconds of her not speaking, he took off his glasses and wiped them again.   
“Yes,” she finally said. Her voice was so cold it almost gave Jack frostbite just hearing it. “Yes, that is my husband, Daniel Sousa, lying dead on a slab. You absolute bastard.”   
Jack was surprised that the coroner didn’t fall to pieces right there. Peggy gave him one last stare, then pushed past him out of the room. Jack followed, and was there to catch her when she collapsed again.   
“Come on,” he said, putting an arm around her. There were thick tears in his throat. “Let me get you home.”

Peggy let him stay over. She threw blankets on the couch and then moved towards the door like she was going to go upstairs. Jack kicked off his shoes and was loosening his tie when he became aware that Peggy had her eyes fixed on him. He turned, slowly, to meet her gaze. She was giving him a strange look that was both tender and desperate, and he wanted nothing more than to give into it. In fact, he almost did, letting his hands fall to his side as he took one step towards her, then another, and another. Peggy lifted her hand and touched his face, her fingers trailing gently down his cheek. He caught her hand in a loose grip and felt bones shift under her skin. The moment hung between them, a space that felt at once immeasurable and all too easy to cross. Jack’s eyes flicked down to Peggy’s lips. Her lipstick had worn off, and all that was left was a faint pinkish tint and a few flakes of red in the grooves of her upper lip.   
Kissing her was nothing like kissing Daniel. Her mouth was hot, and she was demanding, grabbing Jack by his belt loops, pulling him closer. She was a good kisser, just as he’d thought, in moments of weakness, that she would be. He lost track of his hands and then found them again, resting on her waist. Peggy grabbed one and brought it, slowly, up to her chest until it was resting on her breast. Her palm was slick with sweat, whether from the humidity or arousal’s strange cousin, Jack didn’t know. He broke the kiss with a heavy exhale.  
“Okay,” he murmured. “Okay. We’re doing this.” Peggy nodded, and kissed him again. He kneaded her breast and she whimpered, a sound that shot waves of warmth through Jack’s whole body, made something inside him curl with pleasure.   
Peggy’s hands scrabbled on his shirt, making quick work of the buttons. She was practiced at this, all of this, and Jack didn’t have to wonder why. She yanked his shirt down over his shoulders, untucking it and pulling it off him. He grabbed her by the waist again and walked backwards, taking her with him, until he hit the couch and fell back onto it. She climbed readily on top of him. The couch protested their combined weight with a shrieking of springs, but then fell silent, as if realizing that opposition was futile. Jack decided that Peggy was much too clothed for his taste and, with her help, divested of her of her dress. She, in turn, went to work on his pants. Every time her hand brushed his growing erection he had to hold back a groan.   
Jack slid his hand up her thigh, searching for the top of her stockings so he could pull those off her as well. Instead he found heat, and wetness seeping down her inner thigh, and was distracted. He pushed his hand in between her legs, urging them wider apart, and she complied with a little mewl. His fingers explored, running over the soaked fabric of her stockings, pushing into the heat, feeling the outline of her clit through her underwear. He rubbed it, and she arched her back with a beautiful gasp.  
Jack was good at this. He’d had practice as well, and even if it was never really what he wanted to be doing, he knew how to make women feel good. He liked it. And he wanted to make Peggy feel good, she needed that right now. That’s what he swore to himself as he slipped her stockings down her legs. He was going to make her feel good.  
Peggy tossed the stockings aside and pulled her slip off, and then she was naked in front of Jack and he almost lost his breath. Or he would, remembering. Right then he wasn’t really looking at her; this wasn’t about looking. It was about feeling. So when her deft fingers slid around his cock, he closed his eyes and let her stroke him, a part of him picturing (as he so often did) Daniel in her place.   
When he couldn’t take it anymore he opened his eyes and grabbed her hand, and in one fluid motion they slipped his underwear off. Peggy sank onto him with a moan that was maybe the best thing he’d ever heard, and he spent a moment lost in the sensation of her heat surrounding him. She was so tight, and wet, and he groaned aloud.   
“Fuck.”   
Her only response was to start moving her hips, urging him to thrust into her, and he did, grabbing her hips for support as she pushed him back into the couch. After a bit, she couldn’t hold back her moans.  
“Oh. Oh my god. That.. that feels so good.”   
Her eyes were closed, and Jack knew why. Knew that in her mind, it was Daniel underneath her, Daniel inside of her. He knew that, and he didn’t mind. He wished the same thing, imagined the same thing. They both wanted Daniel, not each other. Jack didn’t close his eyes, but his mind wandered all the same. He couldn’t stop it. He went away, thinking of how Daniel’s lips had felt on his, how softly he’d touched Jack, the little moan that Daniel hadn’t been able to hold back. He lost himself in the memory and the sensation, and felt heat start to build, coursing through his body, ready to spark into a full blown fire. He tilted his head back, unable to stop it, crying out as the feverish heat swept through him in a blaze of ecstasy. He felt Peggy tighten around him, heard her cry out, held onto her body as she shuddered through her orgasm.   
She collapsed next to him, into his arms, and he kissed her face tenderly, because he could. He tasted sweat, and salt, and realized that she was crying.   
“I didn’t want you,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did that.”  
“Hey, Carter, don’t be sorry,” he said. “I knew what we were doing. I didn’t want you either.”  
“You didn’t?”  
“You ain’t stupid,” he said, feeling vaguely defensive, but also unwilling to let go of her. “You know I loved him. You always knew I loved him.” Maybe he was accusing her, maybe he wasn’t. There had been days when he hated her, hated both of them, but those were far gone now. Now, she was going through the same pain he was, and it was nice not to be alone.   
“I didn’t know,” Peggy murmured. “I… had my suspicions, you’re right, I’m not stupid, but I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Jack.”  
“What did I say,” he muttered. “Don’t be sorry. You got nothing to apologize for.”   
“I miss him,” she whimpered, burying her face in his neck. “Oh god, Jack, it hasn’t even been a day and I already miss him. I’m already falling apart. How will I survive this?”  
“I don’t know,” Jack said, tracing soothing circles on the soft skin of her back. “I don’t know, but at least you have me, and I have you. At least we’re not alone.”   
“We might as well be,” Peggy argued, her words punctured by her sobs. “We might as well be, without him.” And Jack didn’t have a response for that.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first smut fic so i hope it's okay!! please leave comments i live for feedback


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